dreams

Dreams and Everyday Magic: the Fairy Godmother costume

Eve Neuhaus 2 Comments

Early this morning, at about 4:30, I was woken by a dream.

Someone is knocking at the door. I know it’s still night and at first I resist answering. The knocking persists, so at last I get up and go downstairs. At the door is the UPS man who shows up periodically in my dreams. He’s in this one, for example: https://eveneuhaus.com/2017/04/22/the-changing-room/) In the new dream, he hands me a soft package wrapped in white paper.

When I unwrap it, I see that it’s a fairy godmother dress, complete with folding wings. I am delighted.

As I wake up, my inner eyes still on the sparkling costume, I realize that I’d been blessed with another gift from Alice O. Howell, the third powerful vision she’s blessed me with.

The first came in a dream too, the night before I had my first of our long interchange of e-mails, talks on Skype, and occasional visits. In that dream, the central image was a telescope or kaleidoscope that I found in my pocket unexpectedly. When I looked into it, my own eye looked back.

The second was a vision in a meditation a couple days after she passed. In it, she was flying back and forth past me merrily, calling out “Look! I’ve left that troublesome body!”

And now she sends me a fairy godmother costume right when I need one. Oh my goodness, I am grateful beyond words.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been busy preparing my talk for the Seekers Compass on November 16. Deadlines suit me. I like to work intensively on a project, and I have been working very intensively on this one. Day and night.

The talk is titled “Everyday Magic- synchronicity, symbols, and in-sight.” I gave it the name before I had any real idea about what I’d be saying, but I trust my intuition in matters like this. I planned to began the research by looking up the word “synchronicity.” I wanted to now what people are saying about it now.

Imagine my pleasure when the first thing that came up, before I even opened the search, was an announcement of a podcast, just released, in which someone I knew briefly about ten years ago is interviewed on the very subject. It was Laura London with Christophe LeMouël on “Speaking of Jung” speaking of his recently released book, Conversations with Marie-Louise von Franz on Synchronicity and Numbers: Insights and Amplifications.

I was off. I spent at least a couple of weeks down that rabbit hole.

Somewhere along the way, an app for recording and analyzing dreams, Temenos, was recommended. I downloaded it and immediately began having a series of dreams related, not surprisingly, to my upcoming talk. Using the voice recorder is much easier than writing down dreams. And, as these things go, the more you pay attention to your dreams, the more you remember them.

Weeks pass. I begin an outline of my talk but it’s uninspired. I start over, this time using images. Since it’s an online presentation, I pull up Keynote, which I haven’t used for many years, and start to play with it. As those of you close to me know, I’ve always been drawn to computer technology. It runs in my family. Alice gave me permission to love it when she explained that the waves of the symbol of Aquarius are energy waves, not water waves. Aquarius is an air sign. She eagerly embraced electronic communication.

The images I came up with soon coalesced into a detailed breakdown of the diagram Ganesh Baba drew for me on a paper napkin in a diner in Watkins Glen, New York, in 1979, the first full day I spent with him. It’s a diagram of the cosmos. At the time that he drew it for me and pounded the numerology associated with it into my head, we thought we only had that time together, so there was a strong sense of urgency. “This is your work,” he told me. Study it, remember it, and pass it on.

Ganesh Baba the day we went to Watkins Glen

It took me about two weeks to get an explanation of his diagram into images and language that I hope will be intelligible. Yesterday afternoon I decided that part of my presentation was finished.

When I went to bed I asked for a dream to guide the rest of my presentation, which is, after all, about Everyday Magic: Synchronicity, Symbols, and In-Sight.

I got a Fairy Godmother costume from Alice.

To top it off, I had a related vision about it in my meditation this morning, but I think I’ll save that for the talk itself.

Now I’m off to work on that presentation again, feeling very grateful indeed.

Everyday magic

Eve Neuhaus 3 Comments

Look! I’m doing an online presentation that you can sign up for using the link on the picture. It’s an extension of the ponderings I’ve been doing on my blog in recent months. See you there?

Type the word “magic” into the search on my blog to get an idea of what I’ll be talking about.

Use the link at the bottom of the description to sign up.

Link:

https://allfaithsseminary.org/interfaith-programs-and-courses/mysticism-studies/?v=eb65bcceaa5f#SeekersCompass

Synchronicity: Tarot Cards, the Witches’ Market, and the Aurora Borealis

Eve Neuhaus 7 Comments

Sometimes I have extraordinary dreams—some of them are told in the links below—and sometimes my life is filled with extraordinary synchronicity. A few weeks ago I was graced with a series of delightful synchronicities.

That weekend, Tom was still in Africa so I had plenty of time to work on my book. There were no real meals to think about, minimal shopping to do, just the dog to walk, which is good for me and almost always a pleasure. I was on a roll.

The last three chapters that I’d written were all pretty dark— the excerpt I published here a few weeks ago is part of one of them—so I decided to add in a lighter one. I gathered my characters in Gert’s parents’ sitting room for New Year’s Eve, had Gert put on some popular music with funny lyrics—it was good fun to do that research—and pretty soon everyone was singing and dancing. They couldn’t dance for all the hours before midnight though, so I figured they could play games. More interesting research. No parlor games popped up, but card games were popular. The first card games from that time and place that came up in my search were played with tarot cards. Good idea. Let the characters play the game and afterwards draw a card. Or better, I’d draw a card for each of them.

The characters probably would have used an Industrie und Glück deck, but I used what I had on hand—I’ve accumulated a good number of tarot decks over the years. The first one I found was my well-worn Waite/Rider deck from the 1970’s.

An Industrie und Glück deck:

I divided out the major arcana cards from my deck, drew one for each of the characters, and then wrote them into my story:

Gert puts one of the decks into two piles. “Pull the chairs back into a circle with a table at the center while I sort the cards.” When the chairs are in place she explains, “I’m putting the major cards, the tarocks, in one pile and the minor cards in the other. Then we’ll each draw one of the tarocks, and I’ll explain what they mean. Or at least what I think they mean.”

“Ooh, she’s going to tell our fortunes!” says Toni. “How exciting!”

“Me first!” Gisi calls out. “I want to get it over with.”

“Okay.” Gert shuffles the smaller set of cards and fans them out so Gisi can choose one.

Gisi looks at the backs of the cards carefully. She runs a finger over them. “No,” she says. “I can’t do it. Someone else has to start. Sorry.” She sits back in her chair.

“I’ll do it!” volunteers Max. Gert shuffles the cards again and fans them out for Max. He doesn’t hesitate, immediately drawing a card from the center of the deck and turning it over.

“It’s Der Naar, the Fool. What does it mean?” he asks Toni.

“Well, that’s appropriate,” she laughs. “It’s the wild card in the deck. It symbolizes beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, and a free spirit.”

“Very appropriate!” Hugo agrees. “I’ll go next.” He runs his finger over the cards a few times before drawing Der Herrscher. 

Gert smiles. “The Emperor. Another good fit. The Emperor represents authority, the establishment, structure, and a father figure. He’s the ultimate ruler of the world.”

“Good God,” says Hugo. “Is that how you all see me? I always wanted to be an artist. Isn’t there an artist card?” 

“You are an artist,” says Anna, “but the card fits, Hugo. Accept your destiny.” Everyone laughs.

Leo volunteers next. He draws the Magician.

“Ah, my favorite,” says Gert. “Der Magier is the first of the Tarocks. It symbolizes manifestation and means that you can make your wishes come true.”

“Phew! A lucky one for me! What should I wish for?”

“That’s up to you,” Gert replies.

“Then I wish the power of Der Magier for all of us. May all our wishes come true.”

“Leo, generous as always! Thank you, my friend,” says Hugo.

The last rays of sun fill the room.

Everyone is smiling.

“Thanks!” says Anna. “I’ll go next, now that I have the power to make my wishes come true.” She takes only a moment to draw Die Sonne, the Sun.

Gert claps her hands. “I think Leo’s card worked. Die Sonne signifies enlightenment, joy, marriage, and happiness.” Anna looks at the card and grins.

“You are an excellent fortune teller, Gert,” says Gisi. “I guess I’ll risk taking a card now.”

Gert reshuffles and fans the deck out on the table. Gisi looks over the back of the cards several times, pauses, and then slowly draws out a card slowly. She studies closely, holding it up to see it better. “I have no idea what this means,” she says, turning it around so everyone can see.

“Oh, it’s der Gehenkte, the Hanged Man,” says Gert. “It’s a complicated card, but it generally points to pausing—voluntarily or involuntarily—in order to assess your situation. It can also mean that it’s time to shift your perspective. Sometimes it means you’ll have to make a sacrifice.”

“Aha!” says Max, rubbing his hands together. “I thought this would go a little deeper eventually. I think it’s an accurate reading of where you are in life, Gisi—of where we all are, no? Very interesting, Gert!”

“It is a good representation. All of our lives are held up right now, aren’t they. None of us knows where we’ll be in a year,” muses Gisi, tracing the form of the hanged man with her finger.

 Hugo says, “I think all the cards have all been pretty good representations of who we are, or of who we could be.”  

“I’ll go next,” Toni volunteers, and Gert lays out the cards again. Toni also takes her time to choose. Eventually she closes her eyes and stabs randomly at a card. 

“The Hermit,” announces Gert. “Huh. Der Eremit isn’t a card I would have associated with you, Toni. The Hermit is a person who gains wisdom by being alone, through introspection. It also means the answer to your question will be found within.”

Toni is surprised too. “Soul-searching certainly isn’t something I’ve done much of so far in my life. All the other cards have seemed so exactly right though. Maybe I should take it up.”

“My turn now,” calls out Felix. “I’m so curious! Every one of these cards has been fascinating to consider.” Gert offers him the deck.

“Temperance. Die Mäßigkeit. Moderation,” she says when she see what he chooses. “Is that you, Felix? Or is the card advising you to be more balanced, more patient?”

“The latter,” says his brother. “Obviously.”

“I beg your pardon, Leo. I am the model of Patience. I ooze Balance from every pore.”  Felix stands on one leg, extending his arms, wobbling a bit, but then holding the pose.

“Very good!” Anna claps and the rest of the group joins in. 

“And now,’ Gert says. “I’ll pick one for myself.” She shuffles the cards three times and then riffles them. At last she chooses a card. 

It’s Der Tod, the Death Card. 

Everyone in the circle looks stricken. 

“Wait, wait,” Gert cries. “It doesn’t mean death literally! None of the cards are meant to be understood literally. It symbolizes transformation or change, or an ending.”

Anna sighs audibly.  “Of course, none of them is literal. Still, it’s shocking to draw it.”

Gert is shaken, but she hides it. “How about if we transition to Jause now? My parents will be home any minute. Come help me in the kitchen, ladies.”

When I had written that far, I took a break and walked the dog up the hill. It was surprisingly crowded in the village Saturday afternoon. Then I remembered that it was the day of the Witches’ Market!

There must have been half a dozen readers or sellers of Tarot readers there.

The second synchronicity occurred a week or so later. My chapter was dated January 25, 1938, so I followed my usual process of looking up what happened in Vienna at the time. It was a tense time then, six weeks before the Anschluss, when Austria merges into Germany.

In late January that year, the Northern Lights were visible in Vienna for the first time since 1805, just days before Napoleon marched into Vienna. Many Viennese saw their appearance in 1938 as an omen. Others were more hopeful—they thought it marked the birth of a princess in Holland.

I wrote the Aurora Borealis into my story by weaving together bits of whatever eyewitness reports I could find. The pictures were all in black and white, but the words were evocative. I went to bed imagining it.

In the morning, I saw that my social media was filled with pictures of the current Aurora Borealis.

Such a Dream

Eve Neuhaus 9 Comments

While I was staying at my daughter’s place in California, I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote down this dream.

July 12, 2024

I had such a dream.

In the dream, I owned a huge, rambling, falling down house, though some of the rooms were still good. A woman in her forties of North African or mixed-race descent—with light brown skin and beautiful curly black hair—came to the door with her teen-aged daughter. A group of other women and girls, all in long dresses, were with her. She explained to me that they could fix up my house, and I invited them in.

Room by room, they created a series of magical spaces full of color, filled with marvelously compelling furniture and objects, and cloths draped everywhere, each one unique. I went looking for my own room, and I found it, spacious, airy, comfortable, elegant. Oddly, I realized that the room was an illusion, even in the dream, but I loved it anyway. Next to it was Tom’s room, his piano in the middle of it. I knew he would be pleased.

I walked through room after room until I came to the end of the house. Through the window of the last room I could see a jumble of metal stairs and incomplete infrastructure, piled up, all in ruins. I realized it was part of my old house.

I set out to look for my own room again, but it wasn’t there. Instead I found a sort of throne room where all the women were sitting. When I entered, the head woman approached me, drew two longish sticks from a pot, and gave them to me. They were tipped with large cannabis buds.

I was happy but still looking for my room when I woke up. The place was vivid in my mind, rich and magical like Arabia of old or India of pre-colonial days.

I’m still feeling happy.

A few days after the dream, I had my best birthday ever, filled with family, friends, and food.

A few days after my birthday, Joe Biden stepped down, and Kamala Harris stepped up.

I hope dreams come true.

Spiral dream: Redemption

Eve Neuhaus 20 Comments

Ever since I was a very young child, I’ve had dreams that center on a conical spiral in one manifestation or another. William Butler Yeats called it a gyre.

The earliest ones I remember are nightmares. I’m with my mother on a path up a hill, mountain, or a pyramid, and the ground falls out from under me. She cannot save me.

Later I’m on my own on the path, always spiraling upward, never easy. But sometimes when the path collapses or the land slides, I can save myself.

When I was in my late 20’s and Ganesh Baba was part of my daily life, I reached the top of the mountain for the first time. In that dream, the path near the top is so steep and narrow that I can pull myself directly up by using it as a foothold. Still the mountain is steeper and steeper. When I’m sure I can’t go on and that I’m about to slide down that precipitous cliff, I see that my mother is at the top. She reaches down for my hand like Michelangelo’s God in the Sistine Chapel and pulls me up.

I imagined, at that time of my life, that the series would end – but I was wrong. The dreams continue to this day. Sometimes I reach the top, sometimes I am in the middle or at the bottom. Sometimes the mountain is wooded, sometimes I’m climbing a tower, sometimes I’m in the desert. Sometimes the conical spiral takes the form of a Christmas tree or a seashell.

When I began my studies at Pacifica Graduate Institute, I dreamed that I was slogging through a stream at the bottom of the mountain carrying my suitcases. I couldn’t even get to the first level until Tom came by above me, took the suitcases and pulled me up to the first level.

Last night this dream came to me:

In a post-apocalyptic urban setting I am tutoring two little girls, one about eight or nine years old and the other about six. The older one is not receptive to what I am trying do with her, so I take the younger one with me when I go for a walk.

We discover a nearly intact church and go inside. The enormous space is empty. Light enters in shafts through broken windows set high on the walls. There is nothing in the nave. We turn toward the back of the church to leave and I see that a wrought iron spiral staircase, maybe four meters high, has been pushed into the middle of the floor.

From our left, a line of green and gold robed figures files into the room. The first of them climbs up the stairs and stops at the top, the next stops a few steps down, the next a step or two lower, until the stairs are full. The rest of the group stands in a neat line below.

The man at the top begins to sing Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song.” One by one the others join in until they are all singing in glorious harmony.

The child and I are moved to tears.

Wanting to share the experience with the older child, the little one and I leave the church and walk back the way we came. We pass a ragged man in a wheelchair made out of a wooden cart and we tell him about the song. The child sings.

I wake hearing it.